Once Upon A Dream
by SuperMegaFoxyAwesomeHot
Summary: Inspired by the song from Sleeping Beauty. A fairy tale!soulmate!Klaine story, feat. Prince Kurt and stable boy Blaine.


**Uncertain about how I feel about the ending, but it's getting late, so hopefully it's decent enough! *heart***

* * *

Kurt wasn't sure whether he was dreading or desiring sleep that night. On the one hand, another night's sleep meant another tantalizing view of his one true love, meaning he'd get another piece of the puzzle - maybe even a snatch of his voice, if he was lucky. On the other, Kurt tossed and turned on the nights when he had the dreams, because they never _did_ show the whole person, just tiny, nearly useless details.

Kurt didn't have time for glimpses of his soulmate's hair color or smile anymore. His twenty-first birthday was in two days, and he had to announce a betrothal by then in order to remain the heir to the throne.

"This law is archaic!" he'd complained to his father. "Being wed doesn't make one any better of a ruler."

"Balance must be maintained, my son," King Burt had replied. "I hated the law, too, but after years of ruling, I understand why it is in place. The weight of the nation is too much for one person to handle - if I hadn't met Lady Carole after your mother's passing, I would have had to abdicate."

"But what if I don't find my soulmate by the time I'm twenty-one, Father?" Kurt asked quietly, admitting the true source of his discontent.

"You'll find him, Kurt," Burt said gently. "Not once in the history of the Hummel line has the heir not met their soulmate before they came of age."

That conversation had been four years ago, and Kurt was still no closer to discovering who his soulmate was. His dreams had finally started, a sign that they were on course to meet, but the dreams sometimes began months before the lovers actually met. Kurt simply didn't have time to wait.

"Maybe tonight I'll see something usable," Kurt said as he changed into his nightclothes. "And my birthday ball is tomorrow night, so he'll have to be there, won't he?"

As he was alone in his chambers, no one responded, but Kurt felt somewhat more hopeful than he had before. He crawled under his covers and extinguished the candle by his bed, keeping himself relaxed by focusing on his breathing.

_In for four...hold...out for eight._

Somewhere between three and four repetitions of this pattern, Kurt dozed off. He began to dream of a wooded area, lush and gorgeous but difficult to navigate, and felt a pull in his gut encouraging him to move forward.

As he walked on, he was able to make out a familiar blurred silhouette standing in a clearing with his back to him. Kurt accidentally snapped a twig as he got closer, though, prompting the black-haired man to start and turn toward him.

The sunny smile on the man's face was nothing new - Kurt had seen that a couple of nights ago, and it had instantly calmed his racing heart. That night, however, Kurt's heart began beating double-time, because he got his first glimpse of the man's eyes.

They were breathtaking, a warm hazel that glinted almost golden when a beam of sunlight fell across the man's face momentarily. Kurt felt as though the man were able to see deep into his soul with those eyes, though he didn't know what new feature of his was being revealed to the man in return - the dreams weren't always exactly alike.

Kurt simply stood there staring for what felt like eons, mesmerized by the shifts of color he saw. Before he knew it, the forest was shimmering and dissolving around him as he woke up the next morning.

"Gods," he breathed, sitting up in his bed. "If he's here tonight, I'll know. I couldn't mistake those eyes for anyone else's."

* * *

Kurt paced around the hallway, waiting for the herald to announce his entrance and officially begin the celebration.

"He'll be here tonight," he said, hoping that if he just kept repeating that phrase, it would be true. "Didn't you sense it earlier? Intuition is never wrong about soulmates."

Before Kurt could work himself into a complete state of panic, though, the ornate ballroom doors swung opened as a voice cried out "All rise and welcome Crown Prince Kurt Hummel."

Kurt straightened his shoulders and entered the ballroom, scanning the room as subtly as he could for any smiling, black-haired guests. Unfortunately, that coloring was relatively common, especially in the aristocratic families of Lima's neighboring countries, so Kurt's brief search didn't instantly point him toward his soulmate. He tried not to let his disappointment show as he glided across the room and up to the dais where his father was seated next to an empty throne.

Once Kurt was seated, the music began again, prompting couples to go and dance.

"Relax, Kurt," Burt whispered. "Everything will turn out."

"If you say so," Kurt muttered back, fixing a winning smile on his face. He knew he was in for a long night of dancing with every eligible bachelor in the six surrounding kingdoms, all of whom would claim he was the one they had seen in their dreams.

_But maybe one of them won't be lying this time_, Kurt thought, his smile becoming a little more genuine. His bliss quickly faded when a tall, lanky brunet approached his seat, a smarmy smile on his face.

"May I have this dance?" the weaselly looking man asked, looking far too confident for Kurt's taste.

"I suppose," Kurt said, hoping he wasn't showing his displeasure. He gingerly extended his hand to the man, who gripped it tightly and nearly dragged him onto the dance floor.

"I'm Duke Smythe, of Westerville," the duke said. "But you can call me Sebastian - I like it when my partners are screaming my first name when we're in bed."

Kurt almost threw up on Sebastian's shoes.

* * *

The rest of the night passed much like that first dance, though the men weren't always as crude as Sebastian was. Some attempted to charm Kurt instead, whispering sweet nothings that left him more amused than aroused by their efforts. He held out higher hopes for the dark haired men that approached him, but they disappointed him just as much as their blond counterparts in the end.

Kurt finally had a moment to himself just before midnight, when he decided to take a quick turn in the gardens to regain some composure. He was going to have to say his goodbyes to all of the guests soon, yet he was no closer to meeting his soulmate than he had been at the start of the party.

"Maybe my intuition was wrong," he said quietly. "Or maybe I just made up the feeling in my head."

A clamor in a nearby alcove drew his attention, and he hastened closer.

"I told you to stay with the horses!" Duke Smythe's voice scolded. "Not skulk about the ball like a buffoon!"

"I'm sorry, Your Grace," another voice replied. "I only wished-"

"I don't care what you wished," the duke said. "Get back to the carriage! I don't want to spend another minute around that frigid prince."

Kurt sneered, offended, but didn't make his presence known until he heard a smack that could only mean Sebastian had stricken his servant.

"What in the world do you think you're doing?" he asked, turning to stand in the alcove's entrance. "You'd better-"

He broke off as he looked from Duke Smythe's angry face to the servant's, seeing a pair of familiar hazel eyes.

"It's you," Kurt said, reaching out for the boy's hands. "You're the one I've been looking for."

"No - I mean, this can't be-" the boy stuttered, grasping Kurt's hand tightly in his own. "I'm a stable boy, and you're-"

"I'm Kurt," Kurt said. "And I've been looking for you forever."

"Is this some kind of jest?" Duke Smythe broke in, looking aghast. "Your _soulmate _is my _stable boy?_"

"He is," Kurt said, stepping in between the boy and the duke. "Which means-" he faltered, wanting to use the boy's name.

"Blaine," the boy said, apparently sensing Kurt's desire.

"Blaine has more of a right to be here than you," Kurt finished. "May I suggest you leave, Your Grace? Any one of my own stable boys is more than capable of assisting you."

Duke Smythe skulked off, smart enough to hear the ice in Kurt's tone. Once they were alone, Kurt turned to Blaine.

"I can't believe you're here," Kurt said, holding on tightly to Blaine's hands. "I'm afraid you'll turn out to be a figment of my imagination."

"You're afraid _I'm_ the imaginary one?" Blaine asked, incredulous. "I'm the one who just discovered his soulmate is a prince."

"You make a decent point," Kurt said, smiling giddily. "I'd still like to take you back to the ball and ensure I'm not the only one who can see you, though. Would you like to dance, maybe?"

"But my clothes - and I smell like a barn -" Blaine said, looking frightened.

Kurt couldn't have that. He leaned in and kissed Blaine's forehead. "You're perfect. All that matters is that you're finally here."

"I could say the same," Blaine said softly. "All my life, I've wondered if I'd get the chance to meet my soulmate. This is more than I ever expected."

"I've been so afraid you'd never appear," Kurt said. "Not solely because I need my soulmate in order to rule, but because I didn't want to spend my entire life isolated and drifting."

He pulled Blaine in for a tight embrace, feeling Blaine nuzzle into his neck as he buried his own face in Blaine's curls.

"Kurt? I would be honored to dance with you," Blaine said after a long moment.

"The pleasure is truly all mine," Kurt said. He offered his arm to Blaine, who wrapped his hand in the crook of Kurt's elbow.

Kurt distantly heard gasps and murmurs as he and Blaine re-entered the ballroom, but he couldn't bring himself to focus. Blaine's awed look at being inside the palace was more captivating than the rest of the party.

"Just follow my lead," he whispered as the band struck up a new song. He wrapped one arm around Blaine's waist and took his hand with the other, guiding them in a careful waltz.

It wasn't the smoothest dance Kurt had ever done - Blaine had to keep looking down at his feet, and his own tendency for clumsiness made itself known once or twice - but he could never recall feeling happier.

At least, not until Blaine leaned in for a kiss as the song finished. Kurt was sure nothing in his life would ever make him happier than the feeling of his soulmate's lips against his own. Not even his father pointedly clearing his throat nearby could bring him down.


End file.
